|
Night-Painted Hearts - Part 6A Rurouni Kenshin x Tokyo Babylon fanfiction by Ariane Kovacevic, AKA Fuu-chan. Hajime sighed loudly when we stopped for the tenth time in front of a small store which was selling fragments from the previous incarnation of the Naiku shrine. "Be Nice," I whispered in his ear while Makimachi Misao proceeded to buy yet another of the diminutive talismans. Beside us, Himura Kenshin was smiling, amused by the young woman's childish behavior. It didn't take a seer's talent to guess why she was so intent on buying the good-luck charms. The reason for that feverish activity was standing right beside us, his face a perfect mask of indifference, as usual. It had taken us less than two days to reach the sacred city of Ise by train. The monsters of metal were useful to speed up travel, but still I didn't like them. The smoke released by their engines choked the air and disrupted the balance of the land. It was called progress, and it put people in awe before its almost magical power, but I wasn't impressed. Do we still control what's happening to our own country? The question echoed in my mind without finding an answer. I supposed that I would have been called a traditions-bound fool by many, but I saw the changes in the people's lives with suspicion. Too much, too quickly. Here in Ise at least, tradition and custom prevailed. The peace and reverence of the place were preserved. People were walking in the streets, buying a talisman or other, and they were coming for prayer and meditation. Ise was the heart of the spiritual side of Japan, which explained why my clan's elders had decided to establish themselves here, many centuries ago. At the roots of everything. At last, Makimachi Misao ran back towards us, a wide grin on her face and a new talisman in the palm of her hand. "All right, this time I'm all set!" I nodded at her, and led my small troop away from the stores. "Tokio-dono, aren't we going away from the Inner Shrine?" Smiling at Himura Kenshin, I replied, "Indeed. The Sumeragi estate isn't set beside the Naiku. It's right next to the forest of Kiso. It's not far." "That's too bad, I wanted to see the Yata no Kagami." Gently, I laughed when I saw Makimachi Misao's sulking pout. "You wouldn't have been able to see the sacred mirror. Visitors may not enter the Shrine itself, they pray and meditate in special areas outside of it. Besides," I added in a confiding tone, "the Kiso forest my clan's estate is set next to is the one whose cypress trees are used to rebuild the Inner Shrine every twenty years. You'll literally be staying right beside a very sacred place." Awe shone in the blue eyes, and she asked me, "Hontou?" I gave her a silent nod in reply, and the young woman whooped happily. I looked at her and then at the taciturn Oniwabanshu leader, and chuckled to myself. The man was doomed, the girl wouldn't let go of him; she'd drag the kami themselves to force Shinomori Aoshi to spend the rest of his life with her. Good luck, Makimachi-san. After a bit more than an hour of walk, we came in sight of the looming cypress trees of the Kiso forest, and of the Sumeragi estate, right at its edge. As we were nearing the entrance gate, the great doors suddenly opened to let through a tall adolescent whose face was lit by a smile which was going from ear to ear. Shunsuke. My heart surged with joy at the sight and feeling of my son, and he flung himself towards us. I hugged him tight, feeling warmth fill my being, and I laughed happily. Mother. His thought enveloped me in gentleness as he held me back with the incredible strength of a healthy thirteen years old boy. I couldn't help tensing a bit as the ache in my back came to the fore of my mind, and he immediately let go, stammering, "I'm sorry, Mother. I--" Affectionately, I ruffled his hair, and shook my head. "It's all right, don't worry." Eventually, we both separated and he turned towards the Wolf at my side. They studied each other in a heavy, tense silence for a while, and at last Hajime volunteered a very helpful, "You've grown." I almost burst out laughing, but fortunately I mastered myself in time. The boy cocked his head to the side, watching his father with a quizzical look in his eyes, and then nodded. "I know, Father." Then he stepped towards the frozen Saitou Hajime, and flung himself in the Wolf of Mibu's arms, whispering so softly I was the only one who heard, "I may have grown, but you haven't changed." My husband snorted at that, and Shunsuke released him with a grin. I made quick presentations, and when we were about to enter the mansion, an irritated voice reached my ears. "Shunsuke!" My son rolled his eyes heavenward, and I told him with badly feigned reproaches in my voice, "So that's why you came to greet us, we were just a convenient excuse for your to skip training!" The adolescent flashed a impish grin my way. "How can you believe such a horrible thing about me, Mother?" With a wink, he added, "The elders will be pissed. I didn't warn them that I felt you coming." Oh my. Laughing despite myself, I followed my beloved scoundrel of a son into the Sumeragi estate. All around us, the scent of the cypress trees was filling the air, and the quiet song of the wind in their branches was lulling the atmosphere to peace. I doubted very much, however, that it would be enough to impress or placate the elders on the matter of my unannounced visit. People almost never realize it, but their emotions shade their auras with different colors. A true painter is one who can see this and shape people's emotions to create beauty. That's what painting truly is, not painting on paper, oh no. Painting people's spirits. Still, beauty is elusive and some emotions aren't as vividly colored as others. Nothing compares to the split second of eternity when the spirit realizes that it's dying, that life is escaping its grasp while death is waiting with open arms. The emotion which rises in that very moment has no name; it's not fear, it's not dread, it's not refusal, and it's not grief either. The young woman has never found a name which would suit the perfection of it, the ephemeral life of it. Refocusing her attention on her surroundings, she smiles as she sets down a cup of tea beside the old man who stopped by her inn. He's just a low-ranking servant used to carry messages between people who mistakenly believe they remain hidden in the shadows and a very expensive painter that they hire for their more difficult and delicate tasks. She. They don't know this, of course, and neither does the old servant. What his eyes see is a perfectly wrought illusion. He thinks he's talking with a courier while they're being served tea by a deaf half-witted girl, but they're the only persons in the small room. She frowns as the old man delivers a few hesitant words and a sealed letter. He's afraid; the faintest scent of perspiration is rising in the air, coming from him. While she's rather fond of the dark shade of fear, this time it mars the tableau she has painted. Peaceful serenity is broken by that insidious wave of fear. She reaches out and lights a stick of incense, breathing in its soothing perfume. It would be so easy to kill the old servant now. It's so tempting. She doesn't like it when something, anything dares to disturb her paintings. With an inward sigh, she refrains from getting rid of the nuisance, for the old man is useful to her, his mind now perfectly receptive to her illusions. Eventually, he leaves and she reaches out to the sealed letter. She blinks in mild surprise as she starts reading its contents. There's a change in the way her preys are weaving the web around themselves. Another has joined them, that she expected to have to go after in Tokyo. This must be the Wolf of Mibu's doing. She smiles, satisfied. Let him gather his pack, he's helping her assemble all the elements for what will be her masterpiece. Suddenly, she freezes and lets out an almost inaudible hiss as a name comes before her eyes. She stares at it, taken aback, uncomprehending. It's a powerful name, a name which was always present in Keisuke-ojisan's mind. A name which was binding him, in a way. She remembers, as the beautiful curves of the kanji which form the name dance before her eyes. She should be angry at what is after all a breach in the balance, but she's not. She's happy. She always wondered why Keisuke-ojisan was obsessed with that name, she's always suspected it was because one could shape paintings beyond anything she's ever done by using those who bear that name. They're a bit like kin, after all. Father and Mother were so beautiful, lying in the snow with their lifeblood slowly spreading around them. She's never forgotten. Never. Blinking, she frees herself from the name's contemplation. The faintest of emotions is marring her painting of harmonious serenity again. Its color is red, the vivid red of grief, mixed with the darker shade of distress. She turns her gaze inwards, and sighs as she sees the source of the disturbance. The little girl. The child, the ghost which haunts the shadows of her soul. The child who comes back no matter how many times she casts it away. It's dead, it should know better than to annoy her like this. It's but a stupidly stubborn memory of the past. Why it refuses to peacefully drown into the night, she doesn't know, but since it enjoys pain so much as to come back to pester her again and again.... Gathering her power, she strikes. A mute cry resounds within, as the wretched ghost flees. With a disgusted shake of her head, the young woman returns her attention to the letter she's been given, and a smile comes back to her lips. It wasn't she who painted the perfect tableau of her parents' death, it was Keisuke-ojisan. She's never been given the chance to try her hand at something so precious. Until now. Now, that the same woman who often haunted Keisuke-ojisan's nights has turned her gaze this way, and deliberately chosen to step away from the fragile line whose name is balance. The Wolf of Mibu's soul mate. She laughs softly to herself as the letter reveals to her that fascinating information. It explains much, and almost justifies it. Almost. Not that she cares. This fits perfectly, so perfectly that the gods' hands must have intervened to gather all these elements. In a fluid movement, she bends to blow out the stick of incense, and then she stands up before exiting the small room. Behind her, the odd mixture of incense perfume and the last traces of the rancid smell of an old man's fear lingers in the air. The sound of the small wood piece being set down on the board broke the peaceful silence which was reigning over the Sumeragi estate. Saitou Hajime stared at the board for a while, then eventually he asked, "Are you sure about that move?" His opponent looked at him with a mischievous grin, replying in a cheerful voice, "Absolutely, Father." The boy's eyes met the Wolf's as he said this, and a stray ray of sunlight allowed Saitou Hajime a fleeting glimpse of what few could see. There were patches of green in his son's amber-gold eyes, deep pools of dark emerald which didn't belong in a Japanese child's eyes. Alien. They were more pronounced than those hiding in his mother's eyes. Smiling despite himself, the Wolf of Mibu remembered the time when he had first caught a glimpse of the strange color haunting his wife's gaze. He had always thought her eyes ordinary, until one night when the light of a full moon had reflected in them and revealed the anomaly. He had felt a shiver come up his spine then, for during the time of a heartbeat there had been something not entirely human looking up at him through the alien green in Tokio's eyes. Something which knew him, and accepted him...loved him, even. After that first time, he had learnt to spy the patches of green flickering in his wife's eyes. Their shade changed according to patterns he didn't understand. Sometimes they were pure emerald, and then they would shift to the dark green of a high mountain lake at the outset of a storm. When he had asked her about this, she had simply said that it was a particularity of her branch of the Sumeragi family, which seemed to date back to the very beginning of the Edo era. Jokingly, she had added that it was likely due to one of her ancestors falling in love with a gaijin and bringing alien gaijin blood in the midst of the close-minded, traditionalist Sumeragi clan. She had laughed then, at the possibility of such a trick being played on her family. She had passed on the alien characteristic to her son...their son, and it was even stronger in him, even if Saitou Hajime had never experienced the distressing feeling of being watched by something inhuman when looking into Shunsuke's eyes. Refocusing his attention on the here and now, the Wolf observed the board again, and felt a slow grin coming to his face. It was a clever trap, one he hadn't expected coming from an adolescent who hadn't undergone true combat training and had never known war. With a nod, he told the boy, "I see." Adjusting to the fact that his son had revealed himself to be a good shougi player, Saitou Hajime moved this new piece to the higher gameboard, and planned his next move accordingly. Thus began a series of subtle skirmishes and ambushes as both opponents explored most of the known techniques of warfare, but in the end, experience won over the enthusiasm of youth. Experience, and ruthlessness. It was something that the adolescent lacked, this quiet acceptance of the darker aspects of strategy and tactics. Shunsuke was fiercely loyal to his mother, the boy loved her far more deeply than he let on; and he was at heart a gentle person. However it would have been a bad mistake to overlook the teenager so quickly. When threatened, he could become a cunning and vicious enemy, as his skills for shougi indicated. As to his talent in other areas.... With an inward shrug, Saitou Hajime conceded that he had never understood the true nature of Onmyoujutsu. It was a part of both his wife's and son's lives that he was and would forever be a stranger to. Sometimes the thought bothered him, but he was mostly glad to be blind, deaf and mute where the spiritual was concerned. "You'll have to teach me those moves, Father. I really thought I had beaten you on this one." Shunsuke was shaking his head, and there was a helpless smile on his lips. It looked like his defeat didn't bother him in the least. Snorting, the Wolf replaced the pieces on the gameboard, and gave his son a feral smile while he said, "When you play shougi, you lead an army on the battlefield, and the only thing that matters is victory. No matter whom your opponent is. If you watch his moves closely, you will know his mind, and you will know his weaknesses. They all have at least one, even if that's too great a taste for cruelty. Once you have seen that weak point, you strike right at its heart. You, Shunsuke, are too kindhearted, and you foolishly took into consideration the fact that you were opposed to your father in this game. That was your undoing." "I? Too kindhearted? You'll have to tell that one to the elders, they'll choke on it." Taken aback by the boy's interruption, Saitou Hajime got a glimpse of a playful glint in his son's eyes, and allowed himself an inward smile. There was boldness and impertinence there, as well as some measure of irreverence and arrogance. It was a good thing, a very good thing. With a snort, he replied, "I might, but you know they wouldn't even make me the honor of noticing my presence." Which was a part of why he hadn't accompanied Tokio for her interview with the old customs-bound fools. Waving the subject away, the Wolf sobered up and stared steadily at the adolescent who was fast turning into a fine young man. "I'm glad to see that those fabled elders haven't managed to daunt your spirit." With a wolfish grin, he added, "I suppose you can thank your mother for passing on her rebellious mind and her stubbornness to you." Silence followed those words, then Shunsuke's eyes met his as his son said in a very quiet whisper, "You don't have to worry about me." The emerald green patches in those eyes' irises were almost eclipsing the amber-gold which should have been the dominant color. In the same quiet, deliberate voice, the adolescent added softly, "I know, and I love you as well, Father." The smile on the lips of Saitou Hajime's son was beautiful. The light in those eyes, emerald dancing over an ocean of gold, was unfathomable. Ancient and wise. Young and vulnerable. True. Trusting. Giving. Loving, with a fierceness that felt alien. For the first time, the Wolf sensed in his son what he had perceived in the woman he loved, almost fourteen years ago, as something inhuman rose in the adolescent and watched him. Knew him. Embraced him and loved him. Without restriction. Without barrier. Unmasked. There were no shields that could hold against the unearthly light in those eyes, no possible defense, and yet there was utter vulnerability there as well. Sighing, Saitou Hajime allowed a smile to come to his lips and reached out to his son. With slow deliberation, he closed his hand over the youth's and gave a fierce squeeze. He knew that the pride and the love that he was feeling were reflecting in his eyes, and this once he allowed them to show. Just this once. Eventually, the moment passed, and he released Shunsuke's hand. The adolescent grinned at him, saying, "Instead of worrying about me, you should worry about Mother." The Wolf raised an eyebrow questioningly at that, and his son went on, in earnest, "When I reach out to her in the short moment between light and day, right before dawn, she often wakes, and there's a pain deep inside her heart. It hurts her, to wake alone." Had this come from another, Saitou Hajime would have unsheathed his katana and taught the fool not to meddle into what wasn't his business in a single, deadly lesson...but Shunsuke's eyes were sincere, and knowing. So the Wolf let out a strangely heavy sigh, and said quietly, "I know, but I won't endanger her. My life is a hard one, Shunsuke, and I refuse to expose her, I refuse to force her to live with a permanent threat on her life. And the same goes for you." Unbidden, a smile came to his lips as he added in a whisper, "I love your mother in ways words cannot even begin to describe. She knows that, never doubt it." She's like you, part morigami. She knows. The adolescent smiled back at him, and nodded slowly. There were still doubts in Shunsuke's eyes, but he couldn't question the way his parents had chosen to lead their lives anymore than he already had. While the Wolf and he stored the shougi board back where it belonged and exited the room to rejoin the others, the young man stared at his father's back, and heaved an imperceptible sigh. She needs you, Father. She *will* need you. Talent for Onmyoujutsu was both a gift and a curse. It had seemed ludicrous to young Shunsuke to even envision his own talent other than as a wonderful gift; until the day, less than a week ago, when the elders had initiated him to the Kakai divination ceremony. What that showed you was hazy and unclear; there was no knowledge to be gained, not in the way outsiders would have thought. Still, if one was sensitive enough, one could sometimes feel the delicate, silky threads of Fate slipping though one's fingers. Now, Shunsuke knew; now, he understood. Talent was a curse. A frightening, terrible curse. I bowed deeply in thanks once Sumeragi Sakae had finished talking. The old man was an impressive figure who had frightened me out of my wits on quite a few occasions when I had been a little girl prone to misfits. The years had taught me that there was a heart to be found if one was willing to delve beyond all the layers of hard, dried wood. Of all the elders, he was the only one who accepted to listen to what I might have to say before almost always disapproving my choices or decisions. "I remain convinced that giving a shelter to those people is a bad mistake, Tokio. Whatever happens as a consequence of that will be on your shoulders alone. There will be no assistance or backing from any of us." With a smile, I nodded. "I don't expect anything else. I'd never ask the clan to intervene in this matter." "I believe you", the old man sighed, "even if the others won't. You frighten us, Tokio, you're too much turned towards the outside. If only your son was a bit more receptive to what we have to teach...." I shook my head, chuckling despite myself. "Shunsuke listens to you, to all of you, and you know it full well. He just uses his mind to analyze what he's being told and to measure that against the realities of the world and what his senses tell him." With a guileless smile, I challenged the elder, "Surely, you can't fault him for being intelligent, can you?" Had the light in Sumeragi Sakae been sabers, I'd have been cut to pieces in the blink of an eye. Eventually, he shrugged. "You're each as infuriating as the other." With a shake of his head, he waved me away, dismissing me. "Go, out with you. Heed my advice and rescind your invitation while you can still avoid a confrontation...or don't heed it. Gather your friends and leave Ise. We won't let your problem come to us, we won't tolerate this sacred place to be contaminated with the unbalance your actions have given rise to." With a curt nod, I turned on my heels and left the small office room. While I walked rapidly in the corridor, I focused on calm, chasing unwelcome anger away. The old man disapproved me, thought me unworthy of my position even, but he had helped me. Reviewing the information I had just been given, I wished that he hadn't. Futile. Sighing, I nodded to myself, and acknowledged the truth. But dear spirits, how I wished that things could have been otherwise. If only Hajime weren't involved.... I sent the cowardly, despicable thought away, fully aware that I couldn't abandon someone I had granted my help to. I could no more do that than the sun could set in the East. Eventually, I reached the quarters which had been assigned to us, the guest quarters in the outer buildings so we wouldn't be too much of a nuisance for the well-set life within. When I entered the main room, I found Hajime, a cigarette in hand, watching Shunsuke beat Shinomori Aoshi at a game of shougi. There was a wide grin on the Wolf's face; he was obviously enjoying himself quite a bit. Out on the porch, Makimachi Misao was lazing around in the sun, while Himura Kenshin was sitting with his back resting against the sliding panel's edge, his sakaba-tou resting in his lap. Focusing on my son, I told him quietly, "If you don't hurry, you'll miss your calligraphy lesson, Shunsuke." With a long suffering sigh that could have been his father's, the adolescent nodded. "Yes, Mother. I'm going, Mother." As he brushed past me, warmth and gentleness filled my heart. I love you, Mother. I love you. Taken aback, I blinked, and the incredibly clear thought lingered in my mind, echoing and fading only after my son had left the room. Now, what was that for? I wondered, and eventually I discarded the matter, knowing better than to question the abrupt mood swings of a teenaged boy. "So, did you learn anything interesting?" I nodded at my husband, replying with a mischievous grin, "Yes, our presence in Ise is no longer desired." That won me an irritated puff of smoke. More seriously, I added, "Yes, old Sakae had a bit of knowledge and wisdom to spare for me." I knelt down, settling myself into a comfortable position. I leaned against the outside panel with my right shoulder to relieve my back from the strain of having had to maintain a rigidly upright position without moving for the most part of an hour, and I stared at Hajime, Shinomori Aoshi and Himura Kenshin. Then, taking a deep breath, I started my tale. "It seems that there has been quite a bit of movement around the old palace officials who by tradition had the Emperor's ear. They're unhappy and distressed because they're losing their influence somewhat. Not that the Emperor has stopped listening to them, but apparently the Emperor's power is lessening. The Oligarchs seem to become used to power, and to enjoy it." The smile on my lips never reached my eyes as I went on, "It wasn't felt before, because their opinions and the Emperor's were very close. Everyone agrees that we must retain our identities and that we must not fall and decline like China. However, the Emperor remains attached to domains like public education and a harmonious modernization of our country, his mind is focused inwards, on the people and their welfare, whereas rumor has it that voices have risen, advocating a change in our policy towards our neighbors. Rumor claims that some feel the need to preserve ourselves by reaching out and taking the lead in other countries, viewing them as the Westerners do instead of viewing them as our neighbors who should evolve alongside us." "Expansionism?" Hajime whistled. "War." Himura Kenshin's face was closed, the light in his eyes hard. "This is madness." I gave a helpless shrug, and replied with a sigh, "Who knows? What is certain, is that there is a slow, subtle but certain shift in the policies dictated in the Emperor's name. Rumor claims that this shift is in the direction I just explained, and that in preparation for that, troubling elements are being carefully removed. That would be you, as well as anyone who might build a political opposition to that shift. Small staff members, or low-ranking politicians, whose death won't raise anymore fuss than that of half-forgotten shadow actors of the Meiji Restoration.... As to who is behind this, some whisper the names of Touyama Mitsuru and Hiraoka Koutarou, who would be slowly preparing the creation of a terrorist group in the shadows after having used the Kouyousha movement. It's said they would be backed by someone in a high position, someone who has no more love lost for Okuma Shigenobu and the moderates than they have. There is a name, which is whispered in the Palace's corridors, but is it true, or is it just an opportunity for easy slander that has been seized by unhappy officials.?" I shrugged again. "There's no way to know. The name that is whispered is that of Ito Hirobumi, the Home Secretary himself." A hush came over the room when I spoke that name. Shock registered on Himura Kenshin's face, and the cross-scarred young man shook his head, slowly, saying in a blanched voice, "No, I can't believe that. It's impossible." The beautiful violet eyes were clouded. "His past isn't that clear, though." The quiet whisper of Shinomori Aoshi made all of us turn towards him, but he didn't volunteer any more information. Beside him, Hajime snorted and took a long draw on his cigarette before countering, "It's true he was among the rioters who set fire to the British legation, but that was during the Bakumatsu." With a helpless shrug, he added, "It's hard to believe that such a figure of stature would stoop so low as to resort to assassination to achieve his ends. However, I don't put anything past anyone, as I said before. Remote though the possibility is, it can't be ruled out. The names of Touyama Mitsuru and Hirada Koutarou come as much less of a surprise to me." Crushing the remains of his cigarette in a small bowl, the Wolf added with an unpleasant grin, "They're known activists and extremists, we've been aware of them for a while. They participate in political movements, with apparently the sole aim to thwart the Meiji government, maneuvering from one faction to the next, so that it seems impossible to categorize them. However, we've managed to study them enough to know that they are in favor of Japan's expansion and also of a return to strict traditionalism. As we speak, they're indeed slowly putting together a group in the shadows, a group whose nature I can only surmise will likely be used for illegal activities." He paused to light himself another cigarette, and then resumed, "They would indeed be ideal candidates for use in a slow, hidden movement to organize a shift in this country's foreign policy. Then, there's also the military to consider...." His voice faded into silence, then Makimachi Misao, who had joined us when she had heard me start relating my interview with old Sakae, said in an unusually quiet voice, "But why would anyone want to start another war? People enjoy peace, and lead good lives now." "Pfeh." My husband stared steadily at the young woman, and told her, "People's opinion can be manipulated and made to change, weasel girl. Remember that the troubles at the end of the Bakumatsu came from fear and rejection of the gaijin. It's only later that the clans which formed the Meiji Ishin realized that they had to deal with the foreigners, and that they managed to force a change in the population's minds. What was done once can be done again." The Oniwabanshu leader nodded in a slow and thoughtful movement. "And if the idea that Japan can only insure its survival and strength against the Westerners' appetite for conquest by adopting the very behavior that we fear in our own attitude towards our neighbors prevails in political circles, and can be made to take up roots into people's minds--" "Then people will accept the idea of war again," concluded Hajime in a dangerously quiet voice. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, as if that could somehow undo what had just been said, turn it into an absurd nightmare which would disappear with the light of day; then I looked out towards one of the gardens of the estate, and beyond it towards the tall, majestic cypress trees of the Kiso forest. With a sad chuckle, I said in a whisper, "And that will be so much easier to do if you get rid of all those who would alert people against your designs, if you get rid of those who could stop you if you played according to the enlightened rules set by the Meiji government itself. You don't even need to aim directly at known figures like Okuma Shigenobu, you just need to send a clear message by going only for minor people...and also for elements perceived as potentially unstable or uncontrollable, like you." "There musn't be another war, people have endured enough, we all have endured enough." Himura Kenshin's voice was low, and his eyes distant, as if he was reliving painful memories. There was a long, silent pause, time for everyone to reflect on what had been said. Then, Hajime pushed himself from the wall he had been leaning back against, and stepped towards the room's inner door, saying, "all right, we can't achieve anything more by debating the subject to death." Turning back towards us, he flashed a grin our way, and added, "Personally, I don't give a damn about political games. I only know that an assassin has been set loose in Kyoto and disrupts the normal life of the city. So I'll do what I must and find her, as well as those who hired her. Then I'll deal with them as they deserve." I felt a smile creeping up my lips, unbidden, as I heard those words. Aku. Soku. Zan. Oh yes, the Wolf of Mibu was still living by the Shinsengumi's motto. More than ever. Suddenly, Makimachi Misao jumped up and nodded enthusiastically. "All right! For once I agree with the sadistic policeman, let's go kick their asses and make them regret they dared pick us as targets!" I stared at her, then shook my head in mock desperation. A small chuckle stole past Himura Kenshin's lips, and even Shinomori Aoshi's face lit with a bemused smile as the young woman followed the Wolf out of the room with a spring in her steps. "Here, Tokio-san." I looked up from the newspaper that I was busy reading to see Eiji set a steaming cup of tea right beside me. With a warm smile, I nodded at him and bowed my head in gratitude. "Thank you, this is very much welcome indeed." The sun was setting, and it had been a hard day. In the two weeks since we had returned from Ise, all of us had tried to glean more information, either on the shadowy hand who had hired the Sakurazukamori's services, or on the assassin herself. To no avail. It was as if she was a ghost, a spirit who took form in the reality of our world to reap a life, and then disappeared again, as if she had never existed. We knew her name, that she had once revealed to Shinomori Aoshi, but there was no Sakurazuka Keiko to be found anywhere in Kyoto, or anywhere that the Wolf of Mibu could turn his watchful eye to. I doubted very much that she went by that name, anyway. "It's so little, but it's all I can do." The sadness in the low whisper made me refocus on Eiji. The young man's dark brown eyes were clouded with worry and unhappiness. With a heavy sigh, he added, "I so wish that I could help you when I see how weary you are and when I see how tense all your movements have become when you go to train in the dojo, but I'm just--" I set the cup of tea down on the floor and reached out to the adolescent, hugging him tight. "No, Eiji." Softly, I whispered, "Never think that what you do is small or insignificant." I gently pushed him back, and told him with a smile, "You help me a lot, you're my anchor into the normal, everyday world. You're my link with peace and serenity." Resting my hands on his shoulders, I told him, "Never doubt that, Eiji. Never." When I released him, I saw a slow blush coming to the boy's cheeks, and stifled back a chuckle. With an enthusiastic, "Hai!" He bowed as if he had been a samurai and I a lord of ancient times, and then he went away. Warmth filled my heart as I saw the pride in his stance, and I let out a little sigh of relief. I had told Eiji the absolute truth, but I knew that it was hard on him to watch and feel like he wasn't doing anything. "You should send the boy away." I looked up at Hajime, surprised, and saw the Wolf's amber eyes set on me. "To Ise, for instance," he added, "he and Shunsuke are close in age, and they'd be certain to make your elders' lives a hell." That last piece was said with a nasty grin, the sight of which gave rise to an amused smile on my lips. Then he concluded, more seriously, "That way he wouldn't be stuck here feeling helpless and worrying about you, not to mention being a potential hazard." Nodding, I sighed. "I know, but that's not possible. First, Eiji wouldn't understand, and also the elders wouldn't accept him. Oh they wouldn't refuse to give him shelter if I asked, but the boy would be made to feel he's an unwelcome burden everyday. I don't want that." With a shrug, Hajime waved my words away. "You may have to, nevertheless." If it came to a point where the situation warranted it, that was what he meant. I bowed my head imperceptibly, conceding him that. I was loath to envision the necessity, both for Eiji and for what it would mean as to the evolution of things here. I didn't want a war with another Onmyouji. I didn't want to destroy the balance between my clan and the Sakurazukamori. Hell, I didn't want my house to become a battlefield. Not again. Discarding the unwelcome subject, I folded the newspaper and stood up. I had read what interested me, and I was feeling the need to exercise my muscles and spend some energy. A bit of work in the dojo would take a part of the stress away from me, at least. "One shouldn't practice kenjustu for the sole purpose of soothing one's raw nerves." I froze as the words reached my ears, and shot a withering glance at my stupid husband, who stood up as well, and told me with a mocking smile, "So I suppose I must accompany you to make sure that your practice session won't be a complete waste." I blinked, surprised. It wasn't Hajime's habit to come with me to the dojo. He frowned upon my continued practice of kenjutsu and usually he was content to let me go with a barbered comment or other. One must not split oneself between the Way of the Sword and anything else, be it Onmyoujutsu. One should be focused wholly on kenjutsu, or not at all. I couldn't say he was entirely mistaken on that, but it had never been my intention to give up practicing this art that I loved. Just as I exited the room and stepped into the corridor, the telltale sound of a loud tap on wood announced the arrival of an unexpected visitor. "Damn them to hell! This time, I'm gonna kick their sorry asses all the way back to the Imperial Palace!" Eiji's angry mutter resounded in the corridor, coming from somewhere on our right, accompanied by the echo of running feet. With a short laugh, Hajime said, "There's nothing to say: he's a perfect watchdog!" "Hajime!" I elbowed him in the ribs, but he avoided the blow easily, grinning widely at me. Thunder. Lightning, piercing through the sky and striking the land. My heart skipped a beat as I felt the savage, violent shift in the wards set around the house. "Tokio-san!" Sweet, delicate perfume seeping into the air. Enemy. "Tokio-san, please come quickly, the visitor--" Rage, fury and fear rose from a shadow hidden deep inside my heart, so mixed that one couldn't be distinguished from the other, obscuring my vision. Ignoring Hiroko who was running towards me, I flung myself forward. "I'll send for your brother. Yuta-san will--" I cut her off, snarling, "Leave Yuta out of this!" "Tokio-dono?!" I didn't turn back towards Himura Kenshin, I didn't see Shinomori Aoshi coming out of a side room. I didn't even feel Hajime's presence, right behind me. All I could feel was the alien presence which had suddenly risen and was toying with my wards as if they had been insignificant spells cast by a child. When I came to the house's main gate, I froze in horror. The visitor had stepped inside, it was a young woman of exquisite beauty, almost too delicate to be human. Taiyuu. She was wearing a coal-black kimono streaked with thin, almost imperceptible lines of crimson red. As if it had been painted with blood. I held up my arm, halting the Wolf as he made to step beyond me, saying quietly, "Stop." The deadly calm in my voice must have won through to him, for he obeyed. Less than ten steps away from me, the young woman was smiling softly, her arms wrapped around the very still form of Eiji. Oh dear spirits, Eiji.... I stifled the silent cry of distress, mercilessly, and summoned cold, bade it invade my being. Cloaked in burning ice, I stared steadily into the adolescent's dark brown eyes. There was nothing in them, nothing but terror of things only he could see. Once or twice, a shiver went through his body, but other than that he didn't make the slightest movement. He didn't cry out. Beyond him, I looked at the assassin and saw a few, stray sakura blossom petals flying a lazy dance around her. In the same frighteningly quiet voice, I told her, "You're not welcome under my roof, Sakurazukamori-san." She laughed at that, an eerily crystalline sound. "Am I not, Sumeragi Tokio-san? In offering my preys the hospitality of your house, you have invited me as well." How she could quietly stand there without showing the slightest sign of strain at having to fight the action of my wards was beyond me. I forced a pleasant smile to my lips and willed the frantic beatings of my heart to steady as I said, "Now, that question is open to debate. We can discuss it elsewhere, but if you don't leave my house on your own, I'll have to escort you out myself." With mirth sparkling in her eyes, she asked, "Really?" Nodding, I replied, "Yes, really." With a dismissive wave of the left hand towards Eiji, I added, "And let go of that boy, you chose the wrong hostage. My son isn't in Kyoto. The boy you're holding is a mere servant, he's nothing to me." Distress flashed in Eiji's eyes, breaking through the haze of terror. Distress, and other things I didn't want to see or name. Sorrow, and-- "So," she mused, "the boy's worth is naught...." Doki. "That's really too bad." Doki. Her right arm moved upwards, in a slow motion. Doki. And I saw the light shining in her utterly black eyes. Doki. Joy. Pure delight. Doki. The warrior's mask shattered as I understood, and I flung myself forward, unheeding of the consequences. Doki. "No!" Hajime's arms shot out and grabbed hold of me, restraining me with enough strength to bruise. Doki. Uncaring of the pain, I fought the Wolf's hold savagely, like a wild animal. Doki. The Sakurazukamori's hand rested over Eiji's heart, and she smiled at me. Doki. A beautiful, luminous smile of pure happiness. Doki. Then, she pushed the adolescent forward. Doki. EIJI! I cried silently, as he slowly fell to the ground. Doki. Bright red blood, lifeblood splashed from the gaping wound in his back, at the heart's level, and showered the ground around the young man like a light rain of morning. Doki. No.... One last time, I violently fought the Wolf's hold on me, and failed. Shaking my head wildly, eyes mad, I howled, "NOOOOOOO!" In front of me, the Sakurazukamori said softly, "Next time, you'll remember that the painter always knows her subject's hearts." In a fluid, willowy movement, she set a knee down beside Eiji and affectionately ruffled his hair, repeating in a gentle whisper, "Always." Then she turned away, and disappeared as a strong gust of wind rose from nowhere and whirled a myriad of delicate sakura petals around her, enveloping her in a mantle of white tainted with the faintest, most fragile shade of pink. The Wolf's hands released me, but I didn't move. I didn't step towards the lifeless body of the child that I had adopted as my own. I didn't cry. There was nothing inside me but emptiness. A black void which had reached out and engulfed all. "You couldn't have done anything. When we stepped into the entry gate, Eiji was already dead." Hajime's words sank into the emptiness of my soul, and met something. Yes, she was holding his life by a single thread, she kept him for show, like a puppet, and when she was done she severed the last string of his heart. Mentally, I recoiled when I felt the icy coldness in the inner voice. The merciless clarity. The inhuman grief that was accompanying it, and was rising within me. Unmoving, I stared at the body of Eiji, my eyes dry, while a keening cry engulfed my soul. Mute. For nothing would have been adequate to express what I was feeling. Nothing human.
End of Part 6
Notes
Naiku: Naiku, or Ise Koudaijingu is one of the two great shrines of Ise. It's the Inner Shrine, where the Imperial kami Amaterasu Oumikami is worshipped.
Back to the Previous Part On to the Next Part
Back to my Fanfic page. |