Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Written in The Stars ❯ Tactics ( Chapter 10 )
What is Saitou doing in Hokkaido? Bonus A/Misao goodness
Anime/Manga: Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Hentai / Adventure | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.28.2004 | Pages: 3 | Words: 9.4K | Visits: 286 | Status: Completed
I want to express my deepest gratitude to the patient women that have helped me to make this piece relatively readable. Thanks to their time, their effort, their comments and their priceless suggestions and ideas. If you enjoy this ride, it's also thanks to them. Therefore to them, a deep bow from me. Thanks, Gracey, Midori, MightyMightyMunson and Kamorgana. Special thanks to MighthyMightyMunson that role-played with me part of the A/M scenes and to Gracey whose superb job proofreading the chapter I can't thank enough. They are great authors, and I'm sure you know their fics, anyway, there is no harm in remind you to check their stories.
Sapporo outskirts, Hokkaido Prefecture, Earth, late February 1880 A.D.
Morning
The cold Northern wind of winter lashed against the landscape and living creatures with equal ferocity. Although the worst part of the season was over, staying outdoors still constituted a significant health hazard, so the sight of two men in the open, enduring such weather, was an unusual spectacle. One of them was digging, while the other just watched, wrapped in a long blue cape typical of policemen. Days were still short and pretty dark, even close to midday, so it was obvious that they were in a hurry. The shadows cast over the two men by the prison's walls added gloominess to the already ominous scenery of the nearby cemetery.
The man doing the hard part of the job looked up towards the other, a faint smell of cigarette smoke reaching his nostrils. Fortunately, he couldn't see the latter's eyes which were obscured by his long bangs and his uniform's hat. The burning amber gaze had a chilling quality that he didn't exactly need at all while digging a not too old tomb(1)
Unearthing a body during the winter season was beyond stupid, the man grumbled to himself. The soil was still frozen; therefore, the job required twice the effort that would have been expanded under more benign weather.
And in any case, it shouldn't be the task of only one worker, the man thought, growing more incensed with each passing minute.
They didn't say why, but he had been told the task should be performed by only one man, so here he was, stuck with the fucking job. Anyway, who had had the insane idea of burying someone in winter in the first place? Why hadn't they simply cremated the fucking corpse?
The unwilling gravedigger threw a barely concealed dirty look at the cop standing near the edge of the tomb. The son of a bitch returned it, the fierce eyes now visible, while an amused smirk twisted his angular features into a smug mask. Then, with the smug expression still in place, he very deliberately discarded his cigarette, only to light a new one.
"I'm glad you enjoy your job," the creepy man said, "but I haven't all day."
The gravedigger was about to give him a colorful retort, but a quick appraisal of the situation made him change his mind. The local chief of the police had told him to give absolute and complete assistance to the man in front of him. Aside from this, he had also been warned against questioning the bastard's orders, even if they were…odd. The gravedigger was also made aware of the fact that the cop had had brought with him credentials from the highest Tokyo authorities and orders demanding full cooperation. Just one minor complaint could cost him his job… or even worse, according to the words whispered in the police quarters' corridors. He had heard some officers, old veterans of the Bakumatsu days, whispering the still feared word 'Shinsengumi' at the sight of the lanky guy with the amber eyes…The poor chief had been terrified, looking at the tall, smirking guy from Kyoto with undisguised fear.
If the whispers were true, he didn't want any trouble with him. Better to go on digging…
Finally, the shovel hit something: at last, the damned coffin(2) showed up. With great effort, he finally cleared the hole with enough space to allow the other man to step into it, and attempted to open the rounded container safely.
"It's sealed!" His complaint was a shameful mixture of a whine and a frustrated groan. It was already bad enough to commit the sacrilege of disturbing a soul's rest by unearthing the body that it had occupied, but at least he hoped that if the process had been done with care, maybe the curse upon him would be less terrible. But he was an eta-hinin(3), no matter that the Meiji government said. So, as one of the impure and condemned ones, he was expected to bear the curses of the spirits in cases like this. He sighed. Maybe he'd be luckier in his next incarnation and he'd be born in a golden cradle.
Who knows? I could be the Emperor in my next life… Ah, well, better to stop daydreaming and finish this as soon as possible
Someone had gone to great lengths to seal the coffin. The lid simply would not come off no matter how hard he pushed at it.
"We will have to break it… I'll have to get an axe. Fuck!"
"Get out, moron." the tall man commanded.
He was about to comment on the insufferable man's rudeness, but he bit his tongue just in time. The glint of silver he spotted from the corner of his eye suggested that the lanky policeman had drawn his sword.
What is he thinking? He won't possibly try to…
He scrambled out from the hole, out of the maniac's path, just in case the guy was serious about using his blade.
The move was so fast that he couldn't tell what had happened at all. However, the top of the coffin now lay in shreds atop the heaps of dirt and snow that surrounded the open tomb. Still trembling, he dared to approach the edge of the hole. What he saw left him speechless.
That man was a heretic(4)! He was poking at the body with his katana!
Once more, he bit his tongue.
I rather he pokes that at the corpse than at me.
As he had expected, the body was well preserved by the raw cold of Hokkaido's winter. There was evidence that it had been tampered with, obviously to make identification more difficult. But he had met the rat before, and he was certain of one thing: Takeda Kanryuu wasn't the man inside that coffin. He'd known it since he had received the reports, but had needed indisputable evidence to back up his suspicions. Now he had it.
Very likely, Wu Heishin, Yukishiro Enishi's old associate, wasn't the dead man that underwent cremation less than a month before.
It was very clear that the late Captain Sugimura Naruhiko had made false reports on their deaths and who knows on how many other criminals. It was a pity that the man was already dead, an interrogation would have been in order, but he wasn't particularly concerned about the lack of one either. Scum like Wu and Takeda would show up sooner or later. And then he would be there to uproot them. Permanently. After all, they were already officially dead, and that would save him hours of filing tedious reports. Anyway, he didn't like the turn that events were taking, with Yukishiro disappearing suddenly, foreigners pressuring the government for his head, and his old associate plus a man known to have created a drug trafficking syndicate just to start his own weapons ring on the loose.
He finally got out of the tomb, and left the moronic gravedigger to his job of clearing the mess. He had an appointment to fulfill.
Sapporo, Hokkaido Prefecture, Earth, late February 1880 A.D.
Early afternoon
Even in late February, the cold sting of Hokkaido's winter bit harshly into the skin of those who dared to try taming the wildness of that land.
The howling wind still raged outside, making the rough-hewn wooden station where he stood look like a luxurious castle.The place served as an inn and at the same time, was the main storehouse in that part of the village that presumptuously called itself the capital 'city' of the whole island. However, it only reflected the harsh conditions that people living there faced.
Many people were coming to this desolate part of the country. Some were tempted by the promises of the Meiji government. Others were simply trying to make a living, having lost everything after the Shogunate's fall. However, all of them were looking for a better future. On the other hand, only the strongest had the will to stay.
The fact that most of them were former samurai wasn't accidental. They had been raised to endure the harshest conditions.
The waitress approached him, breaking his train of thought. She had a visitor in tow, clad in a heavy cloak, but beneath it, the Tonden-hei uniform was still visible. The man bowed to him formally before taking a seat, while the waitress took his emptied bowl of soba, changed the teapot, and placed a sake jug and a cup for the new visitor. He ordered another bowl as the other man smiled slightly.
"Some things never change, Captain."
Saitou Hajime snorted, and then he fixed his glare on the other individual, who simply chuckled lightly.
"Don't worry. There was a reason I agreed to meet you here. Everyone in the place is trustworthy."
"I thought I had taught you better."
One of his golden tenets had been never trusting people, unless they proved worthy of it, and even in that case, only if they weren't morons. That had been the key to surviving the war and the first years of the Meiji Era.
He had also taught his principles to the men in his unit, and those who survived were coincidentally the ones who had paid attention to his advice. The man in front of him had been one of his former subordinates, and though it seemed that time had weakened his brains a little, he still was reliable.
"Oh, but you did. That's why I said we are safe. And that is also the reason why I could get the information you asked about," the other man said, unperturbed by the rebuke.
Discreetly, he removed an envelope from the folds of his shirt, slipping it under the table. Then he poured sake from the flask for himself again.
"You were right. Sugimura had been selling freedom and new identities to a wide variety of felons under our very noses. And among these were the names you asked me to find."
Saitou narrowed his eyes, calculating. He had one body that didn't belong to the allegedly dead criminal in custody; now he had the data proving that Sugimura had been helping criminals to escape Justice. Very good. These were more than sufficient to cover the bothersome paperwork aspect of his investigation and keep the deskbound officials off his back. Not so much for his sake though, but more for theirs.
"You'll find everything you asked for there. However, I must warn you. Your bird has already migrated in search of more propitious lands."
"I see… Any hints?"
"None. It was made in haste, it seems. While the other fugitives have been wise and stayed out of sight, this particular one acted with too much arrogance, making displays of money and bullying everybody else. So in a short time people started to wonder who was this person and his companion, a Chinese apparently, and why the complaints against him were ignored by the few local magistrates. He lost a lot of employees too. Most of them were too afraid to talk, but others did it."
"I assume you included the list of those magistrates." Saitou's tone was deceptively casual. But there was nothing casual about the predatory gleam in his eyes.
"Don't worry, captain, you won't lose any time. They were taken care of already. Swiftly, if you know what I mean. Especially since people learnt what was happening in the house. I enclosed a report about it too. Too bad we could not catch him before he left."
There were traces of bitterness in the man's voice and he finished the sake in a single gulp. Saitou had an idea about the events that could have taken place in the house. Takeda had acquired a reputation for his unconventional tastes. However, back in those days he had been discreet, reserving his hobby for 'special occasions'. Based on the implications of his former subordinate's words, this time Takeda had been careless and hadn't cared that he had become notorious. This change in his pattern of conduct was worth analyzing.
"It seems we'll have snow tonight. I'd better hurry and go home," the man said, standing up. "It was good to see you again, Captain."
Saitou snorted, but the other man chuckled in response. Shaking his head, he turned to the corridor between the cubicles in the dining area, leaving the place.
He detested moronic sentimentalism, though he understood what the other man implied.
Finishing his soba leisurely, he then returned to his room where the papers could be studied carefully, away from prying eyes.
For a few moments, he considered his next decision.
There would be nobody in the whole country more interested in getting the whereabouts of Takeda Kanryuu than Shinomori Aoshi.
On one hand, getting help from him and the still highly specialized Oniwabanshuu net presented a great tactical advantage. He would be able to catch the criminal sooner.
On the other hand, he could not trust Shinomori to keep the man alive long enough to interrogate him. That would be… inconvenient.
'Anyway, if the worst comes to the worst, Wu would be still available.'
Wu Heishin… The Chinese worm being on the loose shed new light on Yukishiro Enishi's mysterious disappearance. Now, he was sure that the slimy man from the mainland had something to do with it. Considering that Battousai's brother-in-law hadn't been seen around the present acquaintances of Wu, chances of him being in good health were decidedly grim. That was, if he still was alive.
Saitou didn't think so.
'I suppose I'll find out when I ask Wu.'
Surely the news wouldn't make Battousai happy. He smirked. He could almost imagine the former's horror-struck expression when he learnt that the same man he saved from Yukishiro, had in all probability killed him.
However, this wasn't a priority, amusing as it would be. He'd inform Battousai and the old Yukishiro the next time he visited Shinomori.
'Shinomori… well, it would be better to hurry up, before it starts to snow for real.'
He left the inn towards the police quarters, wrapped in his heavy cloak, just before the earlier sunset of the northern lands enveloped the village.
He had to send a telegram to Kyoto.
Kyoto, Earth, late February 1880 A.D, late afternoon.
Echoes of pious mantras, devotedly recited by holy men's melodious voices, resounded in the corridors of the shrine. The whole place radiated peace and harmony, encased in an aura of austere simplicity. It was the perfect balm for haunted souls in search of restoring inner balance. Inside the temple, the smell of incense perfumed a secluded room, where a young, broad shouldered, tall man and a small girl sat in silence, facing the opposite sides of a tea tray laid on the tatami.
However, something rippled the calm waters of today's spiritual pond.
The man didn't even need to look at the young woman in front of him to know that She Was Upset.
'Honestly, the word hardly defines her mood,' the tall man thought ruefully, calmly sipping his tea.
The young woman facing him didn't bother masking her flaring ki. It was rather obvious that she wanted to show him how displeased she was with him.
'How…unusual.'
She was never upset with him, ever, for any reason. And she had had many reasons as of late, starting with the incidents in Kyoto during the past year.
However, she had been his most ardent defender and supporter since he had returned from Shishio's fortress.
While rest of the people at the Aoiya had opened their arms to him, it had been clear from the beginning that they had not forgotten the shame his behavior had caused the Clan. That was the main reason which prevented him from reclaiming his former title. He would not have had the absolute loyalty in the hearts of his people that a leader required. Of course, the anachronism of the Oniwabanshuu's mere existence had also weighed heavily in his final choice.
On the other hand, Misao's attitude had always been different. He had almost killed Okina, his surrogate father and her step-grandfather, and she had caught him in the act. She had witnessed his worst moments, was thoroughly acquainted with his villainy and betrayal, but despite all, she had still believed in his salvation. That had awakened him from his madness when he had fought against Himura at Mount Hiei. That had given him the strength to face life again.
She was not blind or a fool. Misao, like the others, had not forgotten. However, the difference lay in that she had forgiven him truly and completely. And each and every one of her words and deeds around him conveyed this.
He wasn't an unemotional jerk, and he indeed felt a deep gratitude towards the young woman who was now in front of him. Therefore, what she felt and thought of him mattered deeply.
During the two month period beginning from the time when Shishio had been defeated to the moment they had started their trip to Tokyo during Yukishiro's Jinchuu, he had managed to regain the upper hand over his turbulent inner self. Of course, the task of self-purification would take years, and perhaps, he'd never achieve his goal. However, while he was walking that path, an unexpected result was that he realized what lay beneath Misao's apparently childlike self.
Though his logical mind registered the fact that she wasn't a child anymore upon returning to the Aoiya, there had been a certain surprise, along with a great deal of pride, upon discovering the young woman she had become. Many years had elapsed since he and his men had left the Aoiya and little Misao-chan in it.
That child of the past had vanished, and in its place was a very young but capable and strong spirited woman. Why people around thought he underestimated her was beyond his understanding, not that their opinions counted to him.
Honestly, of the two of them, she was the stronger, though he was the master and the guide simply because she lacked the required experience in life. He didn't consider her a child, much less a weak one at that. He knew her full potential well and though she still needed experience, he was certain that she could manage by herself satisfactorily.
As a former Okashira, he had learnt to discover the secret strengths and weaknesses of those around him, be they allies, subordinates or foes.He was not the one who was taking her lightly, but rather it was Okina and the others. This was perhaps in part due to the closeness they shared with her. To their credit however, he hadn't known how to deal with her at first, the image of the child he had left behind still impressed in his mind. But once he had begun considering the facts of the matter, her accomplishments during Shishio's incident, the way she had led the Oniwabanshuu, and the manner in which she had received him back into the fold, any such lingering memories or assumptions of her being a mere child were forcefully wiped away.
To be absolutely honest, he had been initially surprised, expecting that, despite Himura's words, she would be first one to turn her back on him. After what he had done to the Clan, after what she had witnessed, it would have been the most logical course of action; it was what he deserved, no less. In fact, if he had been in her place, he would have assumed a far more drastic course of action. However, though he knew she hadn't forgotten his deeds, he also knew he had her forgiveness. In fact, she went beyond that, making his return to live life and complete emotional healing a matter of honor to her. Her devotion was overwhelming.
To the casual eye, hers was a clear case of puppy love. He himself had been under that impression, and her attentions, well-intended as they were, annoyed him a bit in the beginning. However, he soon learnt to see beyond the surface.
He discovered then that her forgiveness was not influenced by blind love, and that though she understood his actions fully, she never justified them. Instead she had always kept faith that deep inside, the person that he was hadn't been completely corrupted, that he was not beyond redemption. It was then when he found that he couldn't help but admire her force and determination. And subsequently, he understood that he could not fail her, never again.
The period after his return had been one of searching and healing. And discovering as well. It wasn't until Yukishiro's Jinchuu that he had finally decided she was the only one who could stand by his side. And it was partly because, though many people didn't realize this, except, maybe, Battousai, he could not have walked the path back to life without her.
Certainly, Yukishiro Enishi's Jinchuu had been a turning point in many people's lives, not only Battousai's. Appearances might be deceiving, and as many thought of him as coldhearted, when he merely had a strong grip on his outward display of emotions, they also considered Misao a naïve optimistic with an unrealistic view of the world and its events.
So when he saw her crying over Kamiya's death at the well, after steeling a new determination in the remaining inhabitants of the dojo, he contemplated in quiet awe the true nature of her strength and seemingly effortless optimism. When everyone else had fallen apart, even Battousai, she had put up a brave front to keep them united, and only in the deep darkness of the night, in the silent solitude of the well had she finally allowed herself to grieve for a dear friend.
Outsiders might think her behavior was just the product of irrational childish views, taking her lightly, but he knew better. Her inner strength made her push the others through a positive attitude, rather than through blind obedience. Probably it was not the most orthodox approach, but it had proven effective in many situations during those crucial days. So efective, in fact, than when later faced with Gein, he realized that he couldn't afford to let her cry once more because she was waiting for his return. She had given him a reason to go on. He had to come back to her, and this time, for good.
So he had started to plot.
He wasn't as morose as Battousai was with the Kamiya girl. He'd been planning on how to approach Misao in a prudent way for several months. A man like him didn't change his routine without carefully considering in advance each step to be taken. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if Misao's carefree path wasn't a better choice for a lifestyle. Living without planning every move, without thinking twice or thrice about consequences, free to express every emotion…
"Are you done with your tea, Aoshi-sama?"she asked, a slight trace of irritation present in her voice.
'Maybe it would not be a good idea…'
Looking carefully at her, and feeling the level of her anger, he gave himself a mental shake. Knowing his own temper, if he were to let his emotions run free in the way she did, half of Kyoto would be dead by that time, and the other half would be asking for his head… Being open like Misao was not an option, at least not for the kind of person he was. With a silent sigh, he turned his attention to the cause of his latest mental rants.
Since she had caught the messenger, Misao had gotten proof that information about the Clan's business had been kept from her. And things hadn't gotten any better when she realized that he had held a secret meeting with Okina and Battousai after the attack he had suffered.
Therefore, though the reasons behind her moodiness were as clear as daylight, he asked her, expecting an opening to address the thorny subject in a reasonable way. He wanted the issue cleared and the peace between them, restored.
"What is troubling you, Misao?"
"Nothing is troubling me, Aoshi-sama." She pursed her lips in a thin line.
"Misao, when you are silent like this there are only two possibilities: either you are sick and at the verge of death, or you are upset," he stated matter-of-factly, in a deadpan tone. "You look perfectly healthy to me. So, now that we have established the truth, tell me."
"There is nothing to tell, Aoshi-sama, that you don't already know."
'She was about to snap finally,' he thought, surprised at the hint of irony in her answer that had nevertheless betrayed her mood.
She was obviously on edge and he wondered why she hadn't exploded yet.
"Are you done with your tea, Aoshi-sama? If so, I'll leave you to your meditation."
Gripping the tea tray tightly, she rose to her feet, ready to leave, forcing down another wave of angry irritation at him.
It was clear that she was trying to keep her words light to show him that she was perfectly capable of keeping her emotions under control.
'But this time I want just the opposite… Since when had she learnt that?'
He narrowed his eyes, studying her. Usually she would have exploded by now, but though she was teetering on the verge of rage, she still kept a better grip than usual on her passionate self.
"My time here has finished. I'll go back to the Aoiya now," he said, rising to his feet and making it clear he would return with her.
For a moment she veered between exuberance and her present attempts at self restraint. His unexpected decision had obviously taken her by surprise, thrown her off balance.
Misao nearly tripped, her green eyes widening before she could catch herself.
"Really?" she stammered, forgetting in her surprise that she was supposed to be aloof and mysterious.
His lips curled imperceptibly in an outline of a smirk, delighted in the innocent display that betrayed her. In that instant, he thought that everything would come back to normalcy. It only took an implication that they would make the journey home together to make her forget her grumpiness. But his smug satisfaction vanished when he saw her eyes narrowing and her countenance darkening again.
"What I mean is...fine, whatever." Misao whirled around, her long braid whipping out behind her. "Do as you wish. I have important business to attend to and I can't go with you."
Aoshi suppressed the urge to blink in surprise. Who was that dark spirit possessing his Misao? However, the rational side of his brain kicked in, telling him that he should have expected this attitude. Misao was many things-- irredeemably optimistic, altruistic, duty-bound, and a bundle of energy. But she also was pure determination on legs. And it was absolutely clear to him now, that she was determined to deal with him at her own leisure. According to his experience, when the adversaries decided that the game should be played as they fancied, the best strategy was allowing them to keep the illusion of being in control, while circumventing their tactics in the background.
'So you want to play by your rules… Fine. Let us play by them then.'
"Very well then. Don't be late for dinner though, or Okina will not be pleased."
He turned and started to walk back to the Aoiya, keeping his impassible features in place all the time.
She had seemed determined to go back on her own, but before he turned to leave, he had seen the expression in her eyes. Now, it was plainly obvious that she was torn between conflicting desires. He felt her burning stare piercing through his skull, but after a brief hesitation, obviously spent pondering her options, Misao ran towards him. She knew full well that the chances to walk beside him were very few and far between, and that she would regret it later if she let the opportunity pass.
"Mmm… now that you mention it… it's a bit late for what I had to do. I guess it can wait. I don't want to bear with Jiya's antics…"
He simply nodded and kept walking with Misao settled by his side, in an unusually silent mood. Her attitude, though it was a cause for some concern, also bemused him. In a way it was a battle of wills, and that she was ready to go to such extreme lengths made him feel strangely proud, even when she had already lost the first round.
He chose a route they rarely took, but that led to her favorite part of this side of Kyoto. It passed through one of the most populated markets, and lately the stalls had been displaying foreign goods that were a constant source of conversation amongst the Oniwabanshuu's female population for several weeks.
Misao had suggested to him in her usual subtle ways that he ought to accompany her on a trip to the famous spot, a thought that had made him mentally wince. Though crowded public spaces were good for performing missions and gathering or exchanging information discreetly, they were not the places of choice to spend his free time.
However, occasionally, he agreed to escort Misao in one of those excursions. In a way, it was his means of expressing his gratitude for her support. He would not have subjected himself to such torture for anyone else, except if it were related to a particular job. In this occasion he deemed that a walk around the place with her wouldn't hurt. On the contrary, the noisy place would offer her a distraction that would help her relax.
Apparently, she was too lost in thought to notice the direction they were moving in, because Misao blanched as they emerged into the busy market. The place was a bustling, boisterous corner of Kyoto that was awash in color and sound, attracting myriads of customers with its many exotic types of merchandise.
She turned around, looking at him with wide eyes at first, then blinked when he walked straight into the rows of stalls, instead taking a detour through one of the less packed parallel alleys, as she obviously expected. He could almost hear the wheels inside her brain running at maximum speed, trying to figure out his motives.
Her immediate reaction made him feel as though she was expecting the end of the world imminently… or that he was drastically ill. Instead running after him, brimming full of enthusiasm and happiness, she looked at him, looked at the booths and then back at him again before asking in a tone that made it clear she thought something was wrong.
"Err, Aoshi-sama… Why? Why are we taking this path?"
Her dark green eyes were swimming with wariness.
"As you are obviously upset, I thought taking the long route might help you to relax. Though I'd personally suggest you try meditating, I've found that women find a shopping trip most relaxing."
'Right. Now she thinks I'm seriously ill indeed,' he thought upon seeing the stare his answer elicited,'…or wrapping her into a trick… which is precisely the case, in a way.'
"Aoshi-sama, for the last time, I am NOT upset." She gave an annoyed sigh that he could hear clearly, and then, holding her head high, she moved effortlessly though the maze of stands and merchants.
'Right, Misao, right.'
However as always, he kept his thought to himself, and walked straight into the crowd, following her.
'Why I have the feeling that if she wasn't upset enough before, she is now? Better yet, why does everything I do upset her *more*?'
Granted, he wasn't an expert in handling female feelings, but he was a specialist in strategy. And he knew her well enough to know what steps to take in order to smooth the way to that inevitable, dreaded chat
He had braced himself for the unavoidable confrontation that would ensue, preparing beforehand a long list of very logical reasons to justify his deeds.
However, contrary to his expectations, it never came. She did not barge into his room, full of bitter accusations, stomping her feet, or throwing kunai at Okina for his complicity. To be honest, she didn't even acknowledge her interception of the message at all.
Just silence.
And for once, Aoshi could tell that he was afraid of silence.
The tension had been mounting between them for days, imperceptible at first, yet it was there nevertheless, reaching boiling point as he had seen just this day. Thus, he decided that the matter would be properly handled before the night ended. He'd force her to explode and then calmly proceed to make her understand, or in the improbable case that she kept her emotions under control like she was doing at the present moment, he would address the issue himself.
Some matters would finally be made clear to Misao.
When he had arrived at his decision, Okina had only disagreed with keeping her totally in the dark. His old mentor insisted that she should at least be informed, and even given paperwork to do, to save her dignity. But Aoshi knew that if they proceeded with that fatal step, she'd never let go of the fantasy, not even after the old man's death as he intended.
Aoshi had planned to disband the Oniwabanshuu after Okina passed away. Of course, it would require a little time and effort on his side to make Misao see things his way, but he had never doubted he'd reach his goal. Misao was clever, and in the end, she'd understand. However, if he allowed her to bask in her hopeless dreams, even for a brief interlude, she'd insanely persist in them, until she got hurt.
After all, she had basis to sustain her claim and keep the old group in the 'business'. She had led the Clan to victory, defeating the prized Juppongatana and the army that Sadoshima had assembled, saving Kyoto from disaster.
In another time and place, she'd have been a great leader, probably much better than him. If the Shogunate hadn't fallen and the Oniwabanshuu were still bound to their duty towards it, he would have cultivated such qualities in her. Of course, he would have added serious physical training, teaching her foreign languages and classical tactics to develop a more analytical methodology to make decisions.
But, times had indeed changed, and the Oniwabanshuu were a relic of the past; superb experts in the dark arts were no longer necessary in the age of the Gatling gun, he thought, bitterness invading him.
He looked at the small form moving a few steps ahead of him. He knew that he could allow her to keep her fantasies just for a little longer before they had to address that even thornier issue, as he had done with her clothes not so long ago.
That had been a small victory in itself. After a brief talk, she had understood that those scanty garments she used to favor when she was younger were now unfit for her. Though he couldn't convince her to wear a proper kimono or yukata, at least she was dressed in a more modest ensemble of gi and hakama. In the course of the exchange, she had finally admitted that he was right and that had proven to him that she was sensible when approached with valid arguments.
Aoshi was relatively confident that he would get the same response when the time came to disband the Oniwabanshuu and lead the quiet life of an inn-keeper with her by his side, if she finally accepted him as her husband.
She'd be severely upset for a while but in the end she'd understand, as it was for the best. Considering the risks involved in the shinobi profession, such as the attack he had unexpectedly suffered few days before, he was understandably adamant about not allowing her to pursue her dreams in the likely event that she too, might experience such attacks. He also wouldn't allow her innocence to be tainted by the path that living like an onmitsu required.
As long as Okina was alive, he'd keep the farce. But in the meantime, they'd try to live as close to normalcy as possible, turning the Inn into just that: a mere inn and not the façade for a center of a spying network. However, those were long-range plans. His immediate concerns were taking the first steps that would lead them to this point, and for this, he needed Misao to understand some basic points, the same ones that were the cause of her present agitation. Therefore, he had to make her understand that there was no point in getting her involved in the few assignments the Oniwabanshuu still accepted from the government agencies.
While his mind whirled around his plans, his senses were still fully alert. He saw her pausing briefly to look at the goods exhibited in a couple of stalls. From the vantage point provided by his height, he could see that the merchandise displayed ranged from Western novelties to more traditional Japanese products. Closing the gap between them, he came up beside her when Misao was peeking at a beautifully crafted fan. She looked up at him, bewildered, when he asked the merchant permission to inspect it.
It was fine-looking indeed, but in his opinion, it didn't suit Misao's personality. He couldn't see her using such an item.
Yet a skillfully wrought ornate tortoiseshell and mother-of-pearl pair of combs got his attention. Yes, those were perfect; he could see them embellishing her long black tresses, loose around her petite frame… The gleaming surface of a silver mirror and its companion brush made the perfect combination to add to his selection. He also chose a rich piece of silk to wrap the present in, and then paid. He indicated for her to follow him, and so they resumed their path toward the inn.
Misao's eyes had widened almost beyond belief while he had gone through the deal. However, instead of facing a long string of questions from her, he found himself walking side by side with a very silent Misao.
He was utterly disconcerted.
This time was different, though. She wasn't trying to rein in her considerable temper like before; her spirits were obviously down, and a tinge of worry made its way into his mind.
'Maybe she really wanted the fan…'
He wondered if it wouldn't be better to return the items and exchange them for what she had chosen in first place.
Aoshi looked at the small bundle in his hands for several moments, and he made a decision. Though he had planned to give the present to her later, after dinner and during the course of their conversation, he decided that it was better to do it before they reached the Aoiya, so they would be near enough to the market if she indeed preferred the fan.
For the sake of discretion, he entered a lateral alley that was relatively empty, then he stopped so suddenly that his distraught Misao almost ran into him.
"Aoshi-sama?" she asked, blinking confused.
"If my choice is not acceptable, we can go back and you can take the fan then, if you like it better," he said simply, giving the present to Misao.
For a brief instant, he was taken aback, wondering what mistake he had made this time. She paled so much that he thought she would faint at any moment, and then he noticed the tell-tale brightness in her eyes, warning him about unshed tears.
He felt confused by this new development. He was used to Misao's emotional exuberance, but this situation escaped his previous experiences. For a moment Aoshi considered the alarming possibility that her reaction was due to some unknown attack, a poison or illness affecting her.
He was in the act of bending down to closely examine her for signs of injuries or disease, when Misao buried her face in his chest, so suddenly and unexpectedly, that he almost lost his balance.
To avoid the very embarrassing scene of two ninjas falling on their rears, he wrapped one of his arms around her waist, and placed his other hand on the floor, steadying their awkward position.
Suddenly, he found himself looking into wide blue-green eyes, her furiously blushing face mere inches from his, and self-consciousness slapped him hard.
Not that he minded such close proximity with her, but they were in a public place. If someone just turned around the corner and caught them like this, it would compromise Misao's reputation. After all, even though she was his ward, there were no proper bonds established to justify the kind of contact they were sharing. At least, for the time being.
"I take it that you accept my gift then."
She nodded, without saying a word. Aoshi got up and helped her to her feet.
"In that case, I think it would be better to resume our trip. We are already late, and Okina will get worried about you if we don't hurry up."
"Yes… I think you are right," she whispered, her cheeks still burning, her eyes now fixed on the wrapped presents in her hands. "Aoshi-sama… thank you. These things are… so beautiful…"
"You didn't seem to like them that much when I chose them… You even looked sad, and I wondered if I had such bad taste."
He couldn't help but slide in that teasing remark.
"That was because I never thought these were meant for me…"
She avoided direct eye contact, blushing even more, and the only reason why he had heard her was because of his training, so softly had she spoken.
He simply raised an eyebrow, hiding the rest of his perplexity. He had always thought that she knew that she was the only one he would offer his attentions to.
'Apparently not', he thought dryly.
The meaning of her words finally started to sink in. He'd have to share a chat with Okon and Omasu.
Though he knew their intentions were good, their teasing about her appearance didn't help her. He knew they were trying to make her more aware of her femininity, without losing her edge as an onmitsu, which was partly the greatest obstacle in accepting more traditional, but constricting clothes. However, their approach might have made her insecure, making her feeling unworthy of him.
'What a foolish thought…'
He let his gaze rest on her. By now she had regained all her cheerful energy and was now chatting animatedly.
"But of course, you don't have to worry about your taste, Aoshi-sama. As with everything else you do, it is superb…" she assured him.
That kind of adoration sometimes made him feel a bit uncomfortable, especially with his past mistakes. However, he couldn't deny that the bit of the admiration she felt for him was soothing for his badly battered ego.His eyes softened and for a quick moment, the shadow of a smile crept to his lips as he basked in the light of her joy bathing his soul. Of course, she missed it, as she always did, but he knew that one day, not so far away in time, she'd have it all for herself.The rest of the trip was spent in quiet satisfaction and her joyful mood made him feel, oddly enough, calm.
He still had a big problem to fix, but that could wait till the night. Then, he'd talk with her, while she still was in a good mood.
That would probably make things easier, he thought as they at last entered the Aoiya.
Author's Note: To avoid confusions, I want to explain why I used Verne's work in the previous chapter. This fic, as all my fics, is planned from chapter one to the very end. I already know how will it end, and all what will happen in between, and I knew it from the first day I decided to write it.
So, the use of From The Earth To the Moon was devised with a plot-wise purpose from the very beginning, and the project started six months before I posted chapter 1. In fact, my plot needed that Enishi, a XIX century man, was not totally ignorant or unaware of the theories concerning space travel, even if it is in its more popular/basic, non scientific level. Therefore, I studied and researched the issue long and hard, until I reached the most acceptable choice.
This was a crucial point for the plot, because it would make the thought of being in alien worlds, and the subsequent acceptance of his situation, easier for him. The reactions of a totally unaware XIX century man thrown into space (and time travel) would have been more extreme, IMO.
There were at that time other fiction works dealing with traveling into space (and time travel), other works that I could have picked instead. But I was limited in my choices. As I'm not proficient enough into Eastern literature to know Asian traditional works which deal with the issue, I turned towards Western literature. But then I faced another detail that limited my choices further. China, as much as Japan had been closed to all foreign influence for centuries, and only opened its frontiers after the Opium Wars. This means that in this period in which Enishi was living in Shanghai (obviously post-Opium Wars, whoever is interested in the historic detail, can check in my other posted fic 'Of Legendary Creatures and Mystical Beasts' where the background of these events is mentioned in complete detail, with a briefing about the Wars in the Author's notes), few Western literary works would have reached to Sin City's shores. To me, there was no possibility that he had access to, lets say, Cyrano de Bergerac writings (Bergerac's major works were two posthumously published accounts of fantastic voyages, VOYAGE DANS LA LUNE (1657) (Voyage to the Moon) and L'HISTOIRE DES ÉTATS ET EMPIRES DU SOLEIL (1662) (History of the Estates and Empires of the Sun). According to Arhur C. Clarke, Cyrano must be credited both for first applying the rocket to space travel and, for inventing the ramjet. For those who don't know who Arthur C. Clarke is: Clarke's work became the basis of the novel and film 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (1968), for which Clarke wrote the script with Stanley Kubrick. However, Clarke may best be remembered as the inventor of communication satellite).I think Enishi would have had instead access to more contemporary works, like From The Earth To The Moon (which, btw has a sequel, from the 'astronauts' POV), which by that time, was already published and translated to several languages, including English. As the two SF writers per excellence in XIX century were Jules Verne and H. G. Wells, (but as H. G. Wells was born in 1866, it made his works unavailable for my purposes), it left me with no other choice than using J. Verne's. Besides, as the devise used in his story was a cannon, it made absolute sense that Enishi (as a weapon dealer) could have read it. So, that's why I used J. Verne's book, and for no other reasons. I would have never used another's author idea without consulting it with him/her first, and without giving the due credit for it. I hope that my explanation helps to clear the issue.
To my reviewers, all my love, and thanks for bearing with me after such a long hiatus. I'll be answering reviews from this chapter on in my LJ, Check my bio for details.
(1) In this period Japan was consolidating it's borders in the sense given by Western standards. Ezochi (Ezochi is a word derived from the Emi and Emichi in native Ainu tongue, which means 'human' and was the name that this people gave to themselves. The place is known since early Meiji as Hokkaido). So in the south they advanced over today's Okinawa, an independent kingdom then, that held a vassal status, and in the North they occupied today's Hokkaido, which had been the fief of Matsumae before the Meiji era. In both cases the desire of consolidation had in the beginning a more defensive goal rather than expansionism, though in Hokkaido it was a lot more evident, with Russia pressuring in the area, which in the end would lead to the Russo-Japanese war. As the place was a cold wasteland in need of serious development, the Meiji authorities decided to kill two birds with one stone, and send the criminals to freshly built facilities in the island. These men, in turn, would serve their sentence through forced labor, building the roads, railroads, etc, paying for their crimes this way, and saving the Estate the otherwise high costs of laborers. The regime the prisoners endured was tough. They were chained to each other, and if due to the harsh conditions and the minimum food and health care they received, they died, they were buried exactly where they fell. In these cases, it's said that a chain was put near the headstone in the marker. The first big prison had been built in Meiji 12 (1879), and after that, they multiplied along the territory during a long time.
(2) To have an idea of how Japanese coffins are, look at the manga, when Kaoru is unearthed.
(3) The eta or now more appropriately called burakumin-literally, "village people"-is an oppressed class within Japan. The burakumin have also been referred to as the eta-hinin, a term that is still in use today. The word eta can be translated as "much or very polluted/unclean," and the word hinin simply means "nonperson." Thus, this group within Japan has been determined to have no identity by the majority Japanese, no genuine personhood (one of the derogatory terms used against the burakumin is yotsu, which refers to a four-legged animal), and therefore, not surprisingly, oppression and mistreatment have historically been their lot. In ancient times, hinin discrimination did not exist. Rather, due to their ability to associate with the Kami, they were feared and respected. Further, these people were additionally respected for their involvement in the arts, notably as dancers and Noh musicians. Ohnuki-Tierney describes the case for substantial contributions by these people in kabuki, noh, and kyogen. At this time in Japanese history, there did, however, exist discrimination toward certain occupations such as "leather workers, grave keepers, people who cleaned, and horse handlers." They also were charged with the job of being executioners of criminal offenders. This occupational discrimination certainly has survived to the modern period. With the coming of Buddhism to Japan in the middle of the sixth century C.E. came an opprobrium against eating meat, which was extrapolated to concerns about the impurity in handling meat. As in India, this injunction came to be associated with handling dead humans as well. Consequently, anyone who engaged in related activities was, by definition, impure and to be avoided. This emphasis on purity and impurity had a long history in Japan associated with Shinto, yet the Buddhist doctrines invigorated and dogmatized this proclivity within Japanese society. As Buddhism permeated its way through Japanese society, the notion of pollution came to include the idea that it could be caused by contact with the bodies of dead animals, and thus came to be associated with leather work and even the eating of meat. Gradually the Shinto concepts of imi (taboo) and kegare (pollution) which were associated with human death became linked to the Buddhist prohibition on taking any life. First government proclamations which outlawed the eating of flesh of certain domestic animals occurred in AD 676. In 1871, with the Meiji Emancipation Edict (Ordinance No. 61), the Japanese government did take steps to discontinue the lowest social ranks and removed their official status by renaming the eta as shin heimin (new common people); however, no real financial or educational support was provided to make this emancipation a reality, and similarly, no change had been effected in the Shinto-Buddhist views of the now "new common people." Furthermore, the period ensconced a new hierarchy with the Emperor at its head that continued to promote separateness. Buddhist temples that were located in buraku communities "were called 'impure temples' [eta-dera] and were not allowed to communicate with temples in non-Buraku areas." Further, since the Dalits were told from the Hindu perspective, the burakumin were taught that it was their karma that placed them in this unsavory life and that forbearance was necessary if the next life was to be favorable.(4) I'm basing this sayings in Megumi's when Aoshi wanted to unearth Kaoru. I haven't found any particular ban on unearthing corpses, though the handling of dead persons is regarded as highly impure, submitting those mourning or in direct contact with the corpse to severe ritual impurity. This is more related to Shinto beliefs. Also, I've found that Japanese Buddhists while don't regard with the same reverence the cult of the dead, they encourage the dignified treatment of mortal remains, though after the living force departs the body, they don't see it as attached in any way to the deceased.