Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Terms of Engagement ❯ A Meeting of the Paths ( Chapter 9 )

AN: This was really a hard chapter for me to write. I needed to get a lot of research done, plus I had to carefully figure out who knew what, when ,and how, so that the plot wouldn't suddenly fall to pieces around your ears as you shriek “No way! He didn't know that!”

Terms of Engagement

Chapter Nine: A Meeting of the Paths

 

Tokio

The brides, dressed in their hastily scrambled together finery, stood in a little room that had, until yesterday, probably been a storeroom. They chattered nervously amongst themselves as they whispered either consolation or encouragement in the dingy room filled with the smell of old rice bales and recently disturbed dust.

Toki, decked out in her flowing white garb looked a bit more put together then most of the brides, thanks to the efforts of her loyal Meido, was probably in more dread of the ceremony than the others. They were getting married to men their families approved of to some extent. Uncle Choju had specifically broken her engagement to Saitou and engaged her to Okita. Which of course brought up the whole problem of Okita, who was really a nice man, but would probably be furious when he heard about her trickery, not to mention her marrying another man. However, those seemed like small problems when she took into account that she was marrying her own executioner. While she'd burned the letter that implicated her dearest uncle, Saitou would find out. Once he found out, she and Saitou's sword would probably become quite intimate with each other for a few life changing seconds, and she wasn't talking about the coy euphemisms that Midori and Sumire snickered about behind their fans. Even if she discounted that small, insignificant, hardly worth mentioning problem, she still had to worry about her uncle's plotting.

Damn you grandfather. I don't care that I will burn in some hell for this, as long as you are there with me. How could you do something so, so… typically male. She shook her head slightly, feeling her hat's ornaments sway with the movement. Women equals stupid, therefore incapable of dealing with finances. As if Samurai's did any better… She could still see her father's face when confronted with something as small and insignificant as a tiny coin being held out to him.

A soft knock at the door summoned the first bride. All the women poised nervously as the miko poked her head in and whispered for Kiiroi to come and join Matsu in front of the temple for the ceremony. Blushing and clumsy in her uchikake that she'd borrowed from a neighbor, she followed the miko out into the much less musty hall. The others whispered encouragement as she stumbled her way to her new life. Quiet reigned a few moments as they contemplated her fate.

Toki looked around the room wondering if it was possible to run, but the lack of windows hampered her plan, and the certain knowledge that an amber eyed wolf in human form was probably gleefully waiting for her to try such a trick. She could imagine the fun he'd have tracking her down through Kyoto -she knew he'd make sure she'd run at least that far, just of the entertainment of it- and then he'd drag her back smirking and proud of himself.

Well, she certainly wasn't going to give him any encouragement. He was just going to have to behave through a very proper marriage ceremony, with a very proper bride, and try to be a very proper groom. She knew it would spoil the fun for him, but for now, the only way she could vent any of the frustration and fear she felt was through small petty jabs. And he was the target.

Another knock at the door summoned the next lucky bride. Sumire disappeared with a pleased smile and a small cloud of good wishes to wed her dear Kashi and spend the rest of her life dealing with his infatuation with Kabuki dancers. Midori wasn't looking nearly as pleased as she used to. Toki guessed that her Momiji had finally either slipped up or confessed that he had his own private harem, and more than a few of her sources had hinted that sweet Momiji was marrying for the sole purpose of having a son to placate his anxious father. Midori would be pregnant and shuffled away to spend her life with her new in-laws quickly, leaving Momiji to continue his swordsmanship with the women of Kyoto.

Another knock summoned the next happy bride, which was her. She delicately lifted her uchikake and carefully made her way out of the room. The miko was waiting to help her get to the ceremony without bolting for an exit or tripping over the hem of her gown and breaking her neck. After slogging through the halls with her increasingly heavy robes she finally came to the shrine's front were Saitou was waiting at the shrine steps dressed in black, with a scowl on his face. Toki wanted to grin at that expression, but kept her face properly composed.

Spoiled your fun didn't I? Poor Saitou…or should I now practice calling you Hajime?

A few pompous words, a few sips of sake and she and her new husband were off to offer their three sakaki twigs to the gods.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you.” He snarled venomously as they set their twigs down in offering. “I've been listening to all those idiots prattle about…” He suddenly got very interested in his twig. “…and…” he gave her an accusing look.

“What did you want me to do?” Tokio kept her voice soft and placid, all traces of the gloating and smirking that were begging to be let out were suppressed. “If I must be married, I want it done right.” She nodded to one of his sakaki twigs that was teetering on the edge of the alter “You might want to take care of that.”

Saitou caught the twig and nudged it back into the growing pile.

Poor, grumpy wolf.

“Your uncle seemed a bit uninterested in the whole ceremony.” Saitou caught her hand and stomped moodily out of the shrine. “He didn't even bother attending.”

“Well, about that…” She looked around to see if any other joyous couples were about. “Remember, I'm actually supposed to marry Okita. As far as he knows, I won't be getting married for months.”

Saitou stopped. “Your family doesn't…”

“No. I told my father. He even sent his congratulations.” She gave his hand a small tug. “I just never told him about uncle changing his mind.”

“Is there anyone you know that you haven't tricked?” One put upon wolf muttered as he glanced around the temple grounds then headed over to where the other lucky bridegrooms stood with their new wives.

“Not that I know of…” Toki made sure her voice was light and carefree. She could practically hear Saitou…Hajime's teeth grind together.

Saitou

Things were not going well. Yes, the ceremony had been flawless. His bride was undoubtedly the most beautiful of the lot. The sake had even been good. The only problem was the morons he'd had to wait with. They had done nothing but talk about sex, women, women and sex, sex and women, wedding nights and sex, different ways to have sex, speculations about which brides would be the best sexual partners, who had already sampled their bride's skills, who had the most sexual prowess, and who was going to give up their mistresses, which had been few. Now that he had Tokio next to him, and they were married, all his mind could mumble about was sex. Drinking ceremonial sake reminded him of sex. Offering twigs…sex. Touching her hand…sex. He'd paused for a moment when he realized that her family hadn't really known about what was happening, but he shrugged it away since the problem could be solved by… sex.

Things were not going well at all. He glowered at his bride in her finery. This is all your fault, you and that tea ceremony. I am never letting you serve me tea. EVER!

He knew he was being childish, but the day was hot, the tailor had left something in one of the seams of his hakima that was poking him in the hip, he was irritated, he still had to stand and listen to the increasingly dim witted nattering of the others, and his bride was irritatingly serene and beautiful. It was just… unfair. He wanted to go back to his room, lay down, and enjoy teaching his new wife a few of those things she had been so interested in learning.

As they joined the group of newlyweds, the men all gave him a congratulatory smirk. He envisioned running them through with his sword, tossing Tokio over his shoulder, and running to the nearest inn. Tokio seemed to float gracefully over to the other newly made wives and all of them stood fanning themselves idly and tranquilly discussing clothing. The men watched them like starved dogs salivating at a meaty treat. Even Momiji, who Saitou had often privately considered “accidentally” gelding in a freak sword mishap to make Japan a better place, was twitching and panting.

“Hehe… She's an eager one. You should have seen her at the tea ceremony.” Momiji snickered softly. “You won't believe what she suggested we do in the bushes.”

“Sumire didn't even wait for the bushes.” Kashi grinned back.

Saitou eyed Tokio and wondered if there were any bushes nearby. He looked around and only spotted a few ornamental shrubs that had been pruned too much to offer any form of cover. There was a promising rock though. He frowned at Tokio's back, plotting how to get her over to the rock before someone else caught sight of it and put it to use.

“How about you, captain?” Momiji sidled closer to him.

Saitou turned and eyed him, narrowing his eyes threateningly. “You're breathing near me. Stop it or I'll make you stop.”

The other lucky bridegrooms and Momiji sidled away.

Saitou took a deep breath and tried to stop the images of long slender limbs, silky midnight hair, and devious smiles from stampeding across his mind and giving his already over active libido any form of encouragement. Not that Tokio herself was negligent in giving encouragement. The damn woman was making a small gesture, raising her arm and letting her robe fall down her arm slightly, letting him see the soft curve of her limb and worse, she had the audacity to actually have a tiny bead of perspiration on the back of her slender neck just below her hairline behind her ear which was nearly shouting for him to come over there and do something, anything about it.

Obviously, the woman was trouble. There was nothing to do with her except to take her back to his room and put an end to her hellish teasing. There were also a number of very nice inns that could quickly provide a comfortable room for a night or two nearby. If he remembered correctly, there was a particularly fine one just a short walk away. He considered how many more men were still waiting to be married, how much longer Serizawa would require him to stay, and how long it would take to get to the inn.

More lucky bridegrooms arrived and joined the others, adding their own comments to the unrivaled idiocy that was holding sway a few paces away from him. A few more lucky brides joined the other women causing Tokio to sway enticingly as she made room for the new arrivals.

“Hey,” Okita bounded up grinning. “Just a few more and we'll head back to the inn for the wedding feast.”

“Feast?” Saitou scowled, concentrating on glaring Okita to death. “What feast?”

Tokio

The wedding feast was lovely. She idly nibbled a small pink mochi pastry and smiled as a servant delicately placed a tray of shrimp in front of her. The other brides and grooms smiled lovingly at each other around her. The grooms fondly pointing out the tastiest treats for their brides as the brides sighed dreamily at their grooms, looking at them with unabashed adoration.

“Are you finished yet?” Saitou growled. “Eat faster.”

Toki smiled gently back and continued to nibble lightly on her mochi. He'd been looking particularly feral since the wedding ceremony, and by the way he was twitching around, she didn't have to look at his lap to see that she had once again captured his attention. So, being the loving wife that she was, and figuring it was payback in advance for him lopping her head off with his sword when he found out about Uncle Choju, she ate slowly and made sure each and every movement she made was the epitome of delicate grace and flowing elegance.

Saitou was, she noticed, not appreciating her performance, or, more accurately, appreciating it too much. If he'd been feral at the temple, he was nearly rabid now. His golden eyes were a glowing molten color. He had either ignored his food totally, or gobbled it down without looking at it. Toki was pretty sure that Saitou hadn't actually meant to eat that little decorative flower that had been on the side of the sea bream, but he'd been too busy watching her drink tea to do more than snatch the closest nearly edible thing and chomp it down.

Poor, frustrated wolf.

Toki admitted it was particularly fun since she knew how this all would end. If then ending didn't have another, far more permanent ending, looming after it, she'd have let her wolf drag her off to show her just what her body was now making all sorts of hints about wanting. All considered, she was feeling a bit cornered between Saitou, her own body, and the looming threat of…

Oh no.

A few calls came from around her as Uncle Choju walked into the inn. Toki ducked behind her groom as if suddenly needing to fix the hem of her gown. Her sudden beheading as an entertainment on her own wedding day loomed.

“What?' Saitou wasn't believing her sudden need for neatness and looked at her suspiciously.

“Uncle is here.” Tokio hissed at him.

“So?” He looked profoundly unimpressed by her very own near death experience that was now amiably talking to Kashi near the front entrance.

The best way to make a man do what you want him to do, one of her informants had once told her, is to ask him to do what he already wants to do. That of course was one of the problems with dealing with her husband. He was contrary, so for his own good, and of course hers, she gave him a disapproving look.

“I have to get up and greet him and I don't want to trip over my gown.” She hissed again and fussed a second more. “I'll go explain. I'm sure he'll want to greet you.” She looked up at him with a thoughtful frown then turned her attention back to arranging her gown. “Just be sure to wake me when he finally lets you go.”

Saitou glanced over to where her uncle stood laughing at a joke Kashi had just told. “Lets me go…”

“And remember, if he challenges you to a drinking contest, he has a tendency to…well, vomit when drunk.” She turned carefully as if preparing to stand. “I'd appreciate you not coming back tomorrow smelling like…”

“What do you mean tomorrow!” Saitou snarled pulling her back down.

She sighed a long suffering sigh. “He'll want to get to know you, and well…he does like to drink and seeing we are at a feast, I doubt he'll let you go before tomorrow morning at the earliest.” She pulled herself free and made to stand again. “Wake me when you get back. I'm going to leave once I explain things to him.”

“You are not leaving without me.” Saitou growled pulling her back down again.

“I am certainly not going to sit and watch you two get drunk.” She pursed her lips into a disapproving moue. “You, if I remember correctly from my letters, make a miserable drunk.”

Saitou looked to where her uncle was now accepting a drink from Kashi. “Fine.” He got up and yanked her behind a decorative screen. “Time to go anyway.”

“Saitou, we can't just leave. My uncle…” She struggled a bit, protesting.

“I'll meet him tomorrow.”

Saitou

They made it to a more private inn in only a few moments. He doubted that anyone except Okita had seen their sudden disappearance, and he'd only seen it because they'd run into him on the way out the back door. He knew the little minx he'd married was up to something, probably something to do with her uncle, but since he'd been looking for an excuse to leave, he'd let her get away with her little deception. He'd question her about it later. Later after he'd gotten over the aching need to run his hands down her skin and feel her quiver beneath him.

Saitou was relieved to see that the futon was already spread for the evening. The window of their second floor room was already tightly shuttered for the night. A candle with a paper flame protector sat on a small table by the bed near a delicate vase with an autumn chrysanthemum bobbing its heavy head lazily in it.

Tokio stepped in the room behind him, looked around a second then turned to him. “You can't avoid my uncle forever. You should have stayed and…”

He pulled the door shut behind her, “Later.”

“But uncle…”

He didn't want to hear it. He'd been listening to a litany of reasons he had to go back and drink with her uncle since they'd left. He'd wade through the quagmire of his wife's mind later, now he wanted to explore something much simpler. He stepped farther into the room, listening as his wife continued to trail after him chattering about leaving.

“…so rude to leave like that.”

He stopped near the futon and bent down, blowing out the candle. The dim light from the fading day glowed through the shutters casting the room into soft shades of grey.

“Saitou? Why did you…” She sounded nervous.

Saitou turned to her, his hands reaching for the obi that circled her waist. “Enough Tokio.” He pulled her close to him, her hands coming up reflexively to rest against his chest. “Let me show you another game you can play.”

She gasped as he pulled the obi loose. He pulled her even closer, nuzzling her ear as the cloth fell to the floor. “I'm sure you'll like it.”

His hands slipped into her robes letting him feel warm silken skin. Her own hands were now spread against his chest and he could feel her breath, soft and excited against his neck. His name a whisper in his ear.

“Hajime…I…” Her fingers slipped in, the tips touching his skin.

Her legs shifted against his as he pulled her hips against his, her warmth rubbing against his need. Her fingers were now tugging shyly at his own robes, trying to loosen them. As he pulled her down to the futon, her robes fell open around her. It only took a moment for his clothes to fall away, leaving nothing hidden from her curious, hungry eyes.

“I know you'll twist me around your fingers with this, someday.” He shuddered as her hands slid up his arms and traced along his shoulders.

His own hands were brushing under the weight of her breasts. “After all, you already have…”

Kojiro Choju

Okita made a fine companion while drinking. He was friendly, intelligent, and not above chattering about things. Things that he didn't even know he was chattering about.

Yaso, or rather his niece Tokio, was one of those things.

He'd seen her walking down the street to this inn, dressed in her wedding finery, and had been rather curious. Not curious enough to stop the two newlyweds, but curious enough to “accidentally” amble in and stay to toast the well being of the Shinsengumi's newly married couples.

The fascinating thing wasn't that he was upset about the marriage as his niece thought he'd be, considering that she'd bolted like a frightened dove the second she spotted him. No, it was that Okita didn't know his little bride had just married his best friend. Odd. Just as odd as the fact that Saitou Hajime had married a woman named Yaso, that was beyond even a small doubt his niece.

Had the little twit really been in love with Saitou the whole time?

He snorted into his cup. Okita or Saitou, either would do nicely. He'd preferred Okita, with his lung rot, but Saitou would do nicely. It didn't matter how skilled a swordsman Saitou was, a sniper bullet would kill him just as easily and far more quickly than waiting for nature to take its course with Okita. It would sadly be a more notable death, but with a war spilling through the streets of Kyoto, what was one more dead body, especially if the dead body was a Shinsengumi captain who was out on patrol in dangerous territory.

He laughed as Okita poured more sake into his cup and told a rather ribald joke.

No. Today was a fine, fine day. His sweet, idiot niece had done an excellent job promoting his plans. Now he just had to add a few minor touches, perhaps get a bit more information, and all would be well.

He toasted a blushing couple who bowed themselves out of the room to snickers and off colored jokes, and smiled. Yes, all was well. He could go home, find Tokio's maid…

what was her name…

who cared…

just one more replaceable servant…

It would even be fun. The kitchen maids were tiring with their weeping. The little mousy thing would wiggle and squeal pleasantly for him. By the end of the night, he'd have the information he needed and he'd be able to make the necessary arrangements. He'd get Tokio a new maid later, if she was still in need of one.

Tokio

So, that's why he likes to kiss.

Toki stretched carefully, trying not to wake Saitou. Not that she was going to protest if he wanted to play again, but, honestly, she was a bit achy this morning. It was a pleasurable achy, but still she wouldn't mind not having to get up for a bit. She curled back against him, luxuriating in his warmth. The morning was a bit cold and her clothes were now scattered around where he'd tossed them the night before. She didn't feel like leaving a nice warm husband to shiver through the room naked getting dressed. She idly noticed that his clothes weren't all that far away, and his sword was laying next to the futon.

Bastard.

She snuggled against him, feeling his hand slide down her waist and press against the small of her back. He made a soft sound in the back of his throat. Asleep, he was stunning. He wasn't the round cheeked, wide eyed beauty that Okita was, but without the sardonic expression he usually wore, his face curved into smooth high cheekbones, soft almost delicate lips, and beautifully arched brows. His body was slender, with layers of sleek muscle sliding gracefully under velvet skin that was marred in places by scars.

She touched a finger to one that slipped around the bottom of his ribs. It didn't take much knowledge to realize that it had been a serious wound, both deep and long. The clean edges and nearly elegant sweep up at the end under his ribs indicated a sword wound. She wondered where he'd gotten it.

“I thought you were tired.” His hands slipped downward, caressing the curve of her buttocks. His eyes fluttered open. A lazy smile curved his lips.

She instantly felt a curl of excitement tangle under her ribs and start working its way down as his other hand slipped between them. “Hmmm.”

“Hmmm.” He rolled her under him, his head dipping, his lips brushing against her throat then trailing downward.

She got lost as her body arched up, pressing against his mouth, while her legs spread themselves for him. His fingers slid inward. She'd always loved his hands with their long slender fingers, now she nearly wanted to worship them as they explored her, teased her, causing her body to twitch and writhe as pleasure wound its way into her blood. She adored his hands.

“Ow!” At least until they did that.

He had the nerve to laugh. “Sore?”

The mood ruined, she shoved. “Get off.”

He rolled away easily and still snickering to himself, got up, and started dressing. Tokio yanked the blankets back up around her and curled in the warm spot he'd left behind feeling abused. It was completely unfair that her tender pink parts now hurt while he was wandering around gloating about doing the hurting. She pulled the blankets over her head growling to herself about men and their unfair games.

He tugged the blanket down a bit to look at her. “Do you want breakfast?”

She glared at him.

“A trip to the bath?” He dumped her clothes on top of her.

She huffed at him and the evil grin he had plastered on his face, but got up. She didn't miss the fact that his eyes moved over her body possessively as she dressed. She turned her back and struggled into her clothing. Tying the obi back into its original knot was beyond her without Meido's help, but she managed to look mostly presentable. Not that anyone seeing her in her wedding clothes, with her hair spilling around her shoulders in a mess, and a self-satisfied wolf smirking at her would be in any doubt of what they'd been doing for the majority of last night.

She braided her hair, trying to smooth it as much as possible and ignored her delightful husband who was placidly pacing around the room like a famished wolf ready to tear into a deer. She stood, made a few last adjustments to her obi and robes, gracefully walked to the door, and walked down the stairs, leaving her husband to grumble after her.

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Author's Research Notes:

Samurais and money- A samurai wouldn't handle any money. Even after the revolution, former samurais would have a servant handle all money, transactions, and financial matters. It was considered beneath them. That Uncle Choju handles money, not to mention a few other interesting habits, says something about his character. I am letting Saitou handle money for another reason altogether; he's probably too smart and to practical to let anyone have power over him or his affairs if he can help it.

Wedding Ceremony (and some nice pictures) can be found at www. japaneselifestyle. com. au/culture/Japanese undersconre wedding underscore ceremony.html. The white wedding kimono is called an uchikake. The white symbolizes death in many Asian cultures. The bride, dressed in her white uchikake symbolically dies to her family and is reborn (In Daughter of the Samaurai the book discusses that under the uchikake is a red kimono, red symbolizing birth and life.) to the new family. The uchikake is also very heavy and long, which makes walking in them difficult. Usually the bride would have an attendant to assist her in this task.

Wedding Feast-http://www.kikkoman.com/foodforum/thejapanesetablebackissues/03.shtml .

Miko- These were attendants or shrine maidens. This (contrary to Inuyasha) wasn't always a great job to have since mikos were quite often prostitutes working for the temple. Wandering around the countryside declaring yourself a miko was pretty much like being a travelling … well, you get the idea… Makes you look at Kagome and her little dress a bit differently doesn't it? O.o

Necks- The sexiest part of the female anatomy to many Japanese men is the neck and specifically the back of the neck where the hair comes down in three triangles. If you look at a geisha from the back, they all emphasize this with makeup and lowering the collar their robes down to rest on or below their shoulder to elongate their neckline and give men a good view of their slender necks.

Kissing- Kissing was considered somewhat kinky. It was a sexual quirk and had the same connotations as we might consider S&M today, maybe a bit fun, but defiantly not something you want to do around the relatives.

Walking ahead of a husband- Tokio is misbehaving. A wife generally walks a few paces behind her husband. Considering the war going on, this was practical. The husband would be the first to meet any danger and take steps to protect his wife without her getting in the way of the combat. Honestly, this only makes minimal sense to me since people could come up from behind and snatch a wife away while the husband was busy being manly in the front.

 

theablackthorn: Thanks! I think Saitou realizes it, but he hasn't really thought it through, so he hasn't figured out just how perfect Tokio is. He just realizes that she's the one he wants. Tokio hasn't figured any of it out. She has other worries to deal with and as far as she's concerned, Saitou is just one more problem she's going to have to deal with. Thanks again for the review. It's great to know what your thinking.